


Worth It

by soixantecroissants



Series: Woman [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bandit Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Bandit Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soixantecroissants/pseuds/soixantecroissants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Robin and Regina share a tent and Little John discovers that certain sacrifices are well worth making, in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

He’s happy for them. Truly, he is.

In all the years that he’s known Robin, John can’t recall him ever being so, well, bloody besotted with someone. He’s glad for it, really, that the two had finally come to their senses. It had been a welcome change at first, particularly after long months of Robin looking lovesick and miserable, and Regina remaining remarkably – stubbornly – oblivious to it all (though it was clear as damn daylight to the rest of the men).

John’s not certain what, or who, had finally forced a confession out of them.

All he knows is that roughly a fortnight ago, Regina had been acting surlier than usual, Robin had said something cryptic about foraging for dinner, and then they’d both simply disappeared. Will Scarlet, eventually thinking them lost in the woods, had gone out searching only to wind up with more than he’d bargained for, looking terribly embarrassed upon his return with a pink-cheeked but rather blissfully preoccupied Robin and Regina trailing behind him, murmuring things into the other’s ear.

Since then, they’ve become…somewhat difficult to be around.

It’s not, as John might have expected, that the giddiness of new love has inspired copious outpourings of public affection for one another; they’ve actually been fairly tolerable in that regard.

Robin is, of course, prone to smiling a bit stupidly at her whenever she’s not watching (suffice it to say that the rest of camp is not so thoughtfully spared). Regina, on her part, has been known to turn rather rosy after Robin has the occasional audacity to steal a kiss from her in front of an audience, though it’s a fact she’ll deny to the bitter end (“What are you looking at?” she’ll scowl at every last one of them, even as that traitorous flush continues to spread).

Their tendency to squabble over trivial things has regrettably doubled since their coming together, much to everyone’s chagrin. Nowadays, though, instead of finding fault in the other’s knowledge of trade routes, or underground passageways into Lord Such-and-Such’s castle, it will be in regards to the Sheriff of Nottingham’s partiality for dark-haired, headstrong lasses, and Regina’s willingness to use that to her every advantage in spite of Robin’s most adamant protestations.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he rumbles to her after each job, and John doesn’t think he’s ever seen his friend so beside himself with anger. “As though you were a prize to be won, or something pretty to display on his arm.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m his type and you aren’t,” Regina will tease him, but faltering, always, when he refuses to be humored, and these will be the rare moments when she comes to him first, pressing their shoulders carefully together until he softens enough to embrace her in full.

Those are also the nights they take their disputes back to their tent, where they then proceed to settle them, loudly and emphatically, to their (thoroughly mutual) satisfaction over the course of many hours, and John will have nodded off several times by the fire before he can deem it reasonably safe to return to his own tent, stationed most inconveniently alongside theirs.

But he’s happy for them, Robin and Regina, and if a few hours’ sleep are lost on account of affording them some much-needed privacy for the purposes of…enjoying one another, so to speak, then John will suffer it gladly.

Despite the smirking looks he gets from Will in the mornings, after John’s elbowed his way to the front of the coffee line feeling sullen, sleep-deprived and hardly in the mood for the lad’s innocent remarks on how restful his own evening had been. Even when Robin and Regina’s pursuit of alone time begins to bleed into the afternoons as well, their tent abustle in a telling manner, and there would go any hope John had of getting in a lie-down while the sun is at its most unbearable.

He sits obligingly through Tuck’s concerns regarding the darkening circles around his eyes, the drooping fit to his outer garments, and he graciously accepts the various herbal remedies he’s offered to aid with his sleepless nights (“Works wonders for insomnia,” the good Friar tells him kindly, while Much – the bastard – suppresses a snicker).

But John’s sacrifice is a noble one, he knows, and made entirely worthwhile one evening late into autumn, when Robin and Regina emerge from their tent with a matching bashfulness and a very important announcement to make – that they’re expecting an addition to their offbeat family of thieves and strays, soon to be the littlest of all the Merry Men (“Or woman,” Robin muses, dimples winking at the thought, and it’s no secret where he stands on the matter).

Celebratory pints are passed around the campfire – Will solemnly pours Regina a flagon of dragon berry juice instead – and John (that’ll be _Uncle_ John, before too long) beams, and toasts, and yes, it was all quite worth it indeed.


End file.
